


Roses are red and they taste like shit

by Mouthfullawhitelies



Category: Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019), Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Hanahaki Disease, More angst, Pining Ivy?, Set around the end of season 1, Unrequited Love, harlivy - Freeform, into season 2, pining harley, when Harley caught feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28607853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouthfullawhitelies/pseuds/Mouthfullawhitelies
Summary: Harlivy: Hanahaki Disease AUHarley Quinn fell in love 3 times in her life. But never has it hurt this much before.The price for unrequited love, they say, is a lifetime curse of flowers at infinite bloom,The price for loving someone you're not supposed to, they say, is asphyxiation: death by suffocation of flowers.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Some Poison Ivy/Kiteman
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	Roses are red and they taste like shit

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is test-run. I've always been a fan of DC comics and Harley Quinn, and recently binged the HQ Cartoon series (ik I'm a bit late to the scene), and I wanted to do something with the Hanahaki disease so here ya go (For those of you who don't know, hanahaki is basically a fictional trope used as a plot device to make unrequited love even more angsty).

> **Hanahaki Disease:** _loving someone who doesn't love you back means that the flowers that bloomed at the base of your stomach will keep growing until they love you back. The price for unrequited love, they say, is asphyxiation: death by suffocation of flowers._

Loving Joker was easier, Harley thinks. It was like loving her father. When he’s there, she can’t help but love him but when he’s gone, she hates his guts. But at the very least, he was consistently absent. Loving Joker was easy because there were no flowers. There were only grenade and bomb explosions that she mistook for fireworks. There were only purple, clown-ish flowers that spewed out poisonous gas that drugged her when she was being too much of a nuisance. Loving Joker was easy, because she also loved the adrenaline and thrill. So when he rejected her, it didn’t hurt as much. Her stomach was filled with dread and adrenaline, that she sometimes mistook fear and trepidation for love. Loving Joker was easy because there were no flowers. 

Loving Ivy, however, took her literal breath away. Ma said that when you have a crush on someone, you get butterflies in your stomach. Sure, loving Frankie Muniz gave her butterflies in her stomach, loving Mr. J gave her the violent, tumultuous thunderstorms, but loving Ivy-- Loving Ivy meant growing a whole fucking forest in her chest and having it grow larger for every second Ivy doesn’t return her love. How uncanny it was that Poison Ivy, a plant-controlling metahuman, who could return Mother Earth to its green glory in a matter of days is the very same woman who's responsible for turning her insides into a goddamn botanical garden. She has never minded Ivy's flowers and plants until they were literally wrapped around her sternum, and she's coughing them up every hour. 

So here she is on the floor of a run-down bathroom, choking to her death. Gardenias, lilacs, hydrangeas-- the whole fucking garden-- built up in her throat, choking her until she coughs out blood and plucked petals of “She loves me/ she loves me not’s.” She can hear Ivy screaming from the other side of the door. 

“Harley, are you okay?! Open this fucking door!” Ivy is now pulling mercilessly at the door handle, as though she’s trying to rip open the door by its hinges. 

“Do you think she’s pregnant?” King Shark muttered from beyond the door. She can almost hear the snide, “No idiot!” from Dr. Psycho, but before she can even stop to think, she can already feel more flowers blooming at the base of her throat. 

With Ivy still pounding at the door and yelling for her to open it and the sick smell of roses and chrysanthemum stuffing up her nose, she’s beginning to feel faint. It smells like goddamn flowers in this bathroom and Harley’s eyes are stinging at the sound of Ivy’s voice. 

“Harley, just open this goddamn door, or else I’ll have Clayface make a key out of himself.”

“I can do that?” Clayface asked in wonderment. 

Ignoring them and looking into the mirror, Harley looks like a fucking mess: a gross combination of spit, blood, and chrysanthemum petals stuck on her chin. Before she’s able to answer them and stop Ivy’s rampage on the poor door, Kiteman’s voice rung clear in the crowd,

“Hey babe, I got the thing you asked for. I know it’s super important to you, so good thing today’s the best day to go kiting, since it’s a _Winds-day._ ” 

“Oh fucking Jesus,” were the last few words Harley was able to get out before vomiting the rest of the bloody garden in the toilet. 

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this first chapter is a test-run/ prologue so it was kinda short. I'll probably do at least another chapter but please lmk if you guys like it so I can know whether to continue this.
> 
> (also please appreciate Kiteman's pun)


End file.
